The Family Business
by elizabeth92
Summary: Alex Rider may be Britain's finest teenage spy, but across the pond the CIA has a new agent, too. Ashleigh Parker isn't only the best child agent they've got ... she's the ONLY child agent they've got.
1. Chapter 1

CIA – Central Intelligence Agency

Washington D.C.

Modern Day

The sleek, black limousine looked like it might have belonged to a visiting dignitary or ambassador. But as it pulled up to the foreboding, gray building, the person who stepped out was not who the guard by the door expected it to be.

A teenage girl exited the limousine. She was dressed simply, in dark slacks and a gray sweater. The clothes had been picked for a reason – they were casual and not very memorable. But the girl didn't need a flashy outfit to draw attention to herself. Ashleigh Parker had long, fiery red hair that could identify her across a room. She was also extremely pretty. Her delicate features could have belonged to a model or actress. But Ashleigh was neither.

The guard on duty outside the door was new. Actually, it was George Beck's first day on the job and he was extremely excited to have been trusted with such an important job. But had he been completely aware of his situation, he would have realized that he had back-up from all angles. Should anything even appear to happen that wasn't supposed to, he would be surrounded by experienced guards armed with automatic rifles. There were snipers that could get in position within seconds of a warning, and with the press of one button, the whole building would go into lockdown. But George didn't know this. He also didn't know the strange, red-haired girl that had just gotten out of the limo.

She walked up to him and smiled. He looked at her, confused. "What do you want, miss?" he asked politely. George had a young daughter of his own and prided himself on being "very good with children."

The girl looked amused. "I would like to speak with Mr. Peck," she said coolly.

George was stunned. How did she know about Mr. Peck? Even he hadn't known about the unofficial head of the CIA until a few weeks ago. But then again, George hadn't had this job a few weeks ago. "I'm sorry, you can't come in here. This is a top-secret federal building."

If you hadn't guessed already, George Beck was not the most intelligent of men.

"Really? I hadn't guessed. Where is Mr. Peck?"

"I can't tell you that, young lady."

George was becoming increasingly suspicious of the teenage girl. She began to look vaguely familiar – maybe she was a film star. Maybe she was Mr. Peck's daughter. No, no, Mr. Peck couldn't have a daughter, especially not one as pretty as this one. She must be a star of some sort. But what would a movie star be doing at the CIA? It was a very puzzling question.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes. She hated new guards. "Then at least tell him I'm here."

But before George could pull out his new walkie-talkie phone (with free long distance text messaging for the first month … if he ever figured out how to use it) and call up the front desk, who strode through the front door but Mr. Peck himself.

"Ashleigh!" he exclaimed. "So good to see you!"

The girl smiled smugly at George. "You, too, dad," she said with a grin in the guard's direction.

George Beck fainted dead away.


	2. Chapter 2

_Since I didn't put any shout-outs or whatever before the first chapter, I decided to make up for it this time. I actually really, really, have to thank Hope (loserlaxen), because it was she who came up with the whole idea of Ashleigh's father being an international terrorist. Oops._

_Thank you for EVERYONE who reviewed – I LOVE YOU ALL! Hugs and kisses and all that._

_Oh yeah … and sorry for the lame title. It DID have a cooler title … but that really didn't last. And the ending is pretty pathetic, too, but hey – I'm getting writer's block, so if you want more interesting stuff, send me ideas._

_­­­­_CHAPTER TWO – DADDY

After George had been declared alive, he'd been carried to his office and draped unceremoniously across his chair. Meanwhile, Mr. Peck and Ashleigh proceeded to the large office in the center of the building that belonged to the head of the CIA … unofficially.

The official head of the CIA was too busy publicizing everything and doing interviews to actually do anything. So Mr. Harold Peck had been picked to work behind the scenes. He was a Harvard graduate who'd planned on becoming a lawyer. Instead, he'd been recruited by the Army and found he liked it better. But the Army hadn't been his future – he'd aced his training and chosen to move on to a more selective branch. His rise to power was as confusing as Adolf Hitler's. But there were a lot less dead people.

"So, Ashleigh, what brings you here?" Mr. Peck asked, settling down in his leather chair. One of the pros of being such an important man was his office furniture, the leather chair especially. The leather was imported from Italy, made in China, and selected by him in the local Office Depot. "Don't you have school?"

Ashleigh shot her stepfather a patronizing glance. "No, dad. It's a holiday. Everyone's out of school." She looked around her. "And most people are out of the office, too." Neither Ashleigh nor her mother approved of Mr. Peck's working habits, but there was little they could do to change them. "Besides, you know they don't teach anything these days."

Mr. Peck smiled patronizingly. It was a look that appeared out of place on his usually stern face. "You know, if I had my way, you'd be in college by now," he reminded her. Ashleigh had always been ahead of other students her age. He had always supported skipping her as many grades as possible, but her mother had disagreed. She claimed that it would be harmful to push Ashleigh too far and, as in most cases, she had the last word. "But we have to keep your mother happy, don't we?" he added. "By the way, she doesn't know you're here, does she?"

Ashleigh shrugged. "I might have told her I was going to the mall," she said lightly, "but she probably saw through that." There was an awkward silence before Ashleigh pressed on. "She thinks you're going to give me an assignment, you know. Even she knows I'm ready."

Mr. Peck sighed. So it was back to this. Ashleigh had been pressuring him to send her on a real mission since she turned eleven. Granted, she was one of the most gifted agents he had, considering her age. Even without her age as a factor, Ashleigh could easily outrank many of his junior agents. But she was fourteen!

"I am ready … aren't I?" Ashleigh asked.

Her stepfather sighed. "Yes, you're probably too ready." He had sent many agents with less talent and experience than Ashleigh into dangerous missions before. But those agents hadn't been his fourteen-year-old stepdaughter.

Ashleigh grinned excitedly. "Does that mean I get a mission?"

"No."

Ashleigh frowned, her disgruntled face a picture of total disappointment. Mr. Peck smiled to himself. "That's not going to work, you know," he said. "And you know that even if it did, you wouldn't have a mission for long. If I sent you to investigate a stolen teddy bear in a day care, your mother would still have both our hides." Ashleigh looked unimpressed. "But I have been thinking."

She quickly perked up. "About what?"

Mr. Peck took a deep breath. "Your father."


End file.
